Dobby: A Ballad
by IrethEarfalas
Summary: One of the first pieces of fanfiction I wrote.


Dobby

A Ballad

There was once an elf called Dobby,

He was an elf of the house.

Cooking and cleaning was not his ideal hobby,

But he was given as much regard as a mouse.

He had worked for a family that was evil,

Ever since he was born,

Those really horrible people

Always treated him with scorn.

Malfoy was their name,

They were not be trusted,

To them crime and cruelty was a game,

And they unfortunately never got busted.

The oldest Malfoy,

He was a Death Eater,

In the Dark Lord's employ,

Serving him forever.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

One fine summer's day

In 1992,

Dobby overheard his master say,

"Not only mudbloods, Potter will be killed too."

The clever little soul

Escaped from Malfoy Manor that night,

Warning Harry Potter was his main goal,

Sadly for him, the Malfoys noticed that he was out of sight.

When he reached Number 4, Privet Drive,

He met Harry Potter and told him what he knew,

But Harry insisted that he could go to Hogwarts and stay alive,

So on the floor, Aunt Petunia's pudding Dobby threw.

When Harry did not realise

That that was done for his own good,

Dobby left (to be punished by the Malfoys) to Harry's anger and surprise,

Unfortunately leaving him punished with less than insufficient food.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

Harry managed to get his way,

And to the station he went,

But Dobby sealed the way to the platform that day,

But was punished by ironing his own fingers and making them bent.

That was not all,

As Harry reached Hogwarts by flying car,

Dobby arrange for Harry to have a fall,

By being hit by a rouge bludger Dobby had enchanted from afar.

For that cleverly performed charm,

Harry was not grateful, the fool,

"It's because of you there are no more bones in my arm"

He said, "Are you trying to kill me for going back to school?"

Very very sadly,

Dobby returned home,

He had been disobeying his masters badly,

He had to put his fingers underneath a heavy tome.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

Finally Harry understood

All that Dobby had done for him.

He apologised for being rude

And tricked Dobby's master into freeing him.

In the years not so far ahead,

Dobby was indebted to the Potter boy,

He helped stop the boy from being dead,

By eavesdropping on Moody and his eye.

He ran all the way to Snape's room

And stole a bunch of Gillyweed.

He gave it to Harry and prevented his doom,

It was yet another good deed.

Harry was again thankful,

And resolved to buy Dobby a pair of socks a day.

Dobby was so grateful,

That he resolved to help Harry even when he still had no say.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

The following year

Harry was taught by the Umbridge woman

The students all began to fear,

She was considered a bad omen.

She never really taught

Defence Against the Dark Arts,

It was widely accepted that she thought

"Hem Hemming" and "Smirking" were the only Arts.

The students who believed that

Their conditions were dire,

They thought she was just a White Elephant fat

And they hoped and wished for her to be fired.

Finally they decided that Harry should teach them

But they had no place to go to and learn.

Dobby then risked being sacked and hearing Umbridge's "hem hem"

He found them a room but not one Knut did he earn.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

Then Harry happened to inherit

A grumpy grouchy house elf named Kreacher.

Dobby was so jealous, he nearly threw a fit

He thought he had never seen a fouler creature.

Harry asked Kreacher to trace Draco Malfoy's footsteps.

Kreacher, who hated him, growled and muttered.

Faithful little Dobby came running at him up the steps,

Kreacher just knocked out his teeth and Dobby stuttered.

Brave, loyal Dobby did Kreacher's job too,

Much better than Kreacher, Harry had to say.

Dobby was so thrilled at this praise, he jumped like a kangaroo,

It was much more important to him than his pay.

After all that Dobby had done,

Harry had done nothing much for him.

Dobby said "Never mind, helping Harry is fun!"

Unlike someone else who would have said "Shame on him!"

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

The following year, Harry left school

To track down and destroy Voldy's horcruxes.

Dobby just like a fool,

Decided to help him and brave jinxes, curses, hexes.

Harry and his friends got into great trouble,

With evil Bellatrix Lestrange.

He said, "Bella, sorry to burst your bubble.

But if you think you can harm Harry-fat chance!"

In order to save Harry and co,

The brave little elf sacrificed his life,

For in order to do so,

He had been stabbed by Bellatrix's sharp sharp knife.

At long long long last

Harry understood,

How much Dobby had sacrificed all his life

To help Harry and the greater good.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

Harry dug and dug and dug

To make Dobby a grave,

Everyone blubbed and blubbed and blubbed

As Dobby had not his, but their lives saved.

But what Dobby did had not been all in vain,

Harry and co. Continued to work and work and work

Until Voldemort had been slain,

But poor Dobby was not there to see it; he was buried in the mud and muck.

Everyone then lived happily ever after,

Except for those who were arrested or had died,

Dobby was someone whose life should have improved for the better,

But alas, the war he had not survived.

But Dobby is not all forgotten,

There are many memorials of him,

His gravestone and his recipe for mutton,

And this fantastic ballad about his life so grim.

The poor, poor elf

Had such a tragic life,

He couldn't save himself,

From any of the world's strife.

Thank you for reading this wonderful ballad by Beedle the Bard the Second (BBII)


End file.
